


Make Up Work

by chaosvoid



Series: NSFW Works [6]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Crying, Dacryphilia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Sex, Sir Kink, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vague Description of Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28829535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosvoid/pseuds/chaosvoid
Summary: Wilbur fails an assignment and isn't happy about it. But his professor is willing to let him make up the grade.
Relationships: Phil Watson/Wilbur Soot
Series: NSFW Works [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015380
Comments: 15
Kudos: 248





	Make Up Work

**Author's Note:**

> lol this has been in the works for like a month  
> no regrets on waiting this long to finish it  
> also prepare for a sfw sick fic in the future that is over 5000 words bc i dont know when to stop  
> i cannot promise on when it will be out tho
> 
> i firmly believe that wilbur cries during sex, regardless if it's rough or not

When Wilbur failed assignments for Professor Watson's class, it was usually on purpose. A ruse to spend more time with his hot professor, and he had no doubt that the other man knew that too. 

So when he got back his quiz on the American Revolution today, to say he was shocked was an understatement. 

The American Revolution was one of his favorite historical events. How could he fail an assignment on something he knew so much about? This was an assignment he actually tried to pass. 

Wilbur felt extremely disappointed in himself. How could he fail at something so easy? It was only ten questions, all multiple choice. He noticed that, while wallowing in self pity, students were packing up, putting their assignments away. He did the same, although if someone looked closely, they could notice the glum look on his face. 

"Alright, class. That's the end of today's lesson. I'll see you all tomorrow! Remember that your midterm projects are due in two weeks!" 

Wilbur was about to walk to the door, but his professor called out to him. 

"Mr. Soot! I need to talk to you." 

Wilbur felt himself tense a bit, but he quickly moved away from the doorway to let the other students. A few who walked by him gave him pity glances, which just made him feel worse. They shouldn't be giving him pity looks. Professor Watson was so kind and lenient with grades and assignments, those pity looks should be reserved for the harsher teachers. (Maybe they gave him those looks, knowing that Professor Watson kept a close eye on Wilbur, more so than anyone else.) 

His professor followed the last student, looking out into the hallway before closing the door. He walked over to his desk, which was at the front of the room, and leaned against it, arms crossed. 

"I want to talk about your grade on the past quiz." 

Wilbur grimaced at the tone, one that only a teacher gave, and fidgeted with the strap of his shoulder bag. He avoided his professor's gaze, not wanting to see the (most likely) disappointment in his eyes. 

"What happened?" 

This one was softer, more concerned. Wilbur still wasn't used to that. His professor used it every time he was tutoring (it wasn't really tutoring, just more of them talking back and forth) Wilbur. 

What really happened that day of the quiz was really bad. It had him on edge, his happy-go-lucky attitude was replaced with a nervous and jumpy personality, something that hasn't come to him since leaving his parents. And he really wished it didn't come back. 

"Wilbur, you can tell me. I'm here to help." 

His professor was only one besides Techno to know of his... not so great childhood. So maybe it's okay for him to tell? To give actual honesty instead of some bullshit excuse? 

"U-Um, the day of the quiz wasn't that... great," he mumbled, still messing with the strap of his bag. "My parents, they, uh... they found out where I lived, and they came to... visit." 

Visit was an understatement. 

His parents forced their way into his apartment, stealing all his food, ripping some of his clothes, and worst of all, they broke his guitar. A gift from Techno when they first started college. He loved that guitar to bits, creating new songs with it and making people smile with peppy tunes. When he rushed to his apartment to grab his laptop, seeing the place a mess and his parents passed out on the floor, empty bottles of alcohol from his stash surrounding them, shook up his entire world. 

He remembers, vaguely, quietly going to his bedroom, in fear of waking his parents, and seeing the broken pieces of his guitar in the middle of the floor. He remembers choking on sobs as he called Techno, remembers the gasp from the phone speaker when he told him what happened. It was also that time when he remembers someone grabbing his hair with enough force to pull out a few strands. He smelled the stench of alcohol from his father's breath as he threw him to the floor, kicking in his stomach, stepping on his wrist and ankle and sides. Nothing was broken, luckily, but he still has the bruises, and still has a slight limp. 

He was pulled back into reality by his professor placing his hands on his shoulders, which made him jump a little. 

"I'm so sorry that happened. If I'd known, I would've had you take it another day. You shouldn't have to risk your mental health for a grade, Wilbur." 

His professor pulled him into a loose hug, which made him freeze for a few seconds before hugging back. After a minute, Wilbur pulled away, running a hand through his hair. 

"I have an idea, Wilbur. I can give you another assignment right now to complete, and depending on how well you do, I'll replace the quiz grade with this one." 

Wilbur gave a small smile. "That would be nice, actually." 

Wilbur set his bag down on a student desk. He was about to get out a pencil before his professor stopped him. 

"No need for a pencil. For this assignment, I'll have you write on the board." 

Wilbur nodded, and walked up to the whiteboard in front. They mostly used it to project presentations and notes (and sometimes movies when Professor Watson didn't feel like teaching), but it could be written on with dry erase markers. 

His professor handed him a marker, and walked back to lean against a school desk in front of the room. 

"Alright, Wilbur. You're very smart. To put it bluntly, you're a history nerd. But I want to see how much you know about certain events. For this assignment, I want you to write everything you know about the American Revolution. Every single detail you remember, no matter how small. You can take as long as you need to." 

Wilbur blinked. "R-Really?" 

"Yes, really." 

Wilbur turned and faced the board. Write everything he knew about the American Revolution? There was so much he knew. He barely knew where to start, but the beginning was probably his best bet. He took the cap off the marker, and started to write. 

He wrote. A lot. By the time he actually had to stop and remember something for a split second, a quarter of the board was taken up, specifically the bottom left. He continued on the bottom right, spending about ten minutes just writing what he knew. 

When he got that space filled out, he moved to the top left. He reached, trying to get the marker as high as he can before continuing to write. Wilbur was 6'5", but the top of the board was much taller than that, so he had to reach to actually get close to the top. He felt his (iconic) yellow sweater ride up, exposing part of his waist, the cool and sudden air making him shiver. 

He felt his professor's eyes on him, specifically where his skin was showing. He smirked a bit, and purposely reached a bit higher, show just a bit more skin, before stopping and moving lower to continue writing. 

If there was music playing, or any sort of other background noise, Wilbur would've missed the slight inhale his teacher did. He continued to play oblivious, pretending that he was focusing on writing rather than teasing his professor. 

He filled out the top left section, and then stretched again to reach the top, making sure to show as much skin as possible without looking obvious. His mind was still spurring through history facts on the Revolution, which he continued to write about on the board. 

Warm fingers touched his skin, a sharp contrast to the cool air. He quietly gasped, stopping the movement of the marker to look back at his professor. 

He was standing behind him, his fingers ghosting against Wilbur's side. His eyes met Wilbur's, and Wilbur felt him rub his waist. 

"P-Professor Watson?" Wilbur questioned, voice slightly shaking. He knew that he was doing the whole stretching thing on purpose, but he didn't actually expect his professor to do something about it. 

"Continue writing, Wilbur. And call me Phil," Profess- Phil muttered, close to his ear. Wilbur nodded, a light blush on his cheeks. He turned back to the board, trying to focus back on writing despite wanting this so badly. 

It really became too much when Phil's hands wrapped around both sides of his waist and squeezed. Wilbur dropped the marker as he let out a loud gasp. 

"Phil, please." 

That seemed to break the tension they've had for so long. Phil grabbed Wilbur's chin, turning his head and kissing him. Phil didn't hesitate to shove his tongue in Wilbur's mouth, exploring all of it. Wilbur didn't try to fight, only turning his body so his neck wasn’t so strained. Phil’s hands went to his hips, thumbs curving into the dips. Wilbur’s arms wrapped around Phil’s neck, trying to pull him closer. 

Soon they had to pull away for air, a strand of saliva connecting their lips. 

“Jump.” 

Wilbur did, and Phil grabbed the back of his thighs, making his legs wrap around Phil’s waist. They went back to kissing, Phil carrying Wilbur over to his desk and laid him on his back. Phil moved to his neck, leaving gentle kisses and small bites. One particular spot, at the base of his neck on his collarbone made Wilbur moan. Phil immediately began alternating kissing and sucking the spot, the harsh sucking leaving a dark spot on his collarbone. 

Phil was lifting up Wilbur’s sweater when Wilbur grabbed his hands and held them in place. Phil pulled away, fear in his eyes, thinking he went too far. 

“Not here. Don’t want people to see. You could lose your job,” Wilbur muttered. 

That was a good reason. Phil pulled away, gently grabbing Wilbur’s hand to pull him up with him. Phil gave him a quick kiss before starting to get his stuff together. 

“What’re you doing, Phil?” 

“We’re going to my house to finish this. That is, if you want to.” 

Wilbur frantically nodded. He went to the desk where he put his bag, grabbing the strap and putting it on his shoulder. He looked back at Phil, seeing him standing by the door. 

Both of them walked out, staying close to one another but not too close to draw suspicion. There were a few students in the hallway, each of them smiling and waving at Wilbur. Wilbur waved back, recognizing a few faces, but it didn’t really matter in the end. What only mattered was that once him and Phil got to the car and to Phil’s house, they could continue where they left off. 

The walk through the parking lot was quick. Both of them made sure that no one was looking before getting in Phil’s car. 

The drive to Phil’s house was torturous, especially for Phil. Wilbur kept teasing him with featherlight touches on his thigh, them trailing up to his crotch, then pulling away right before starting all over again. 

Phil was going to have a fun time destroying him. 

The car pulled into the driveway of Phil’s house, and the two got out. Phil wrapped an arm around Wilbur’s waist, guiding him to the front door. Wilbur kept whispering into his ear, begging for Phil to fuck him as Phil unlocked the door. They quickly moved to the bedroom, leaving their stuff in the hallway on the floor. 

Phil pushed Wilbur to his knees, a hand tangled in his hair. Wilbur automatically knew what to do. He unbuttoned Phil’s pants with his hands, but pulled them away to pull down the zipper with his teeth, looking up into Phil’s eyes as he did so. 

“Fuck, Wilbur. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” 

“Once or twice.” 

Wilbur continued, pulling Phil’s pants down low enough for him to reach his boxers. He mouthed at the prominent bulge, his saliva darkening the boxers slightly. There was a slight tug on his hair. 

“Stop teasing, or else you won’t be able to go to class tomorrow.” 

Wilbur hooked his fingers on the hem of Phil’s boxers, and pulled them down enough for Phil’s dick to spring out. It was bigger than what Wilbur has taken before, but that just made him harder at the thought of this being in him later. 

He wrapped a hand around Phil’s cock, and _damn_ , his hand could barely wrap around the thing. He brought it to his mouth, lightly kissing the tip before placing it in his mouth, lightly sucking. He heard Phil groan above him, encouraging him to continue. He continued, going until he was halfway down Phil’s cock. He could feel the tip at the entrance of his throat, which made Wilbur push forward to have the whole thing in his mouth.

Wilbur was able to get the entirety of Phil’s cock in his mouth, his nose touching Phil’s skin. His eyes were starting to water, so he started move his head up and down, with the guidance of Phil’s hand on his head. He flattened his tongue on the underside of Phil’s dick, making the man above him groan.

A few minutes passed, with Wilbur sucking Phil’s dick and trying to not let tears fall down his face. When Phil felt himself grow close, he pulled Wilbur off his cock, watching him take in deep breaths. He pulled Wilbur to his feet.

“Strip, then lay down on the bed.”

Wilbur followed his orders, throwing his sweater and jeans on the floor, as well as his boxers before laying on his back on the bed. Phil had stripped earlier while Wilbur was stripping himself. His professor crawled on top of him, placing a kiss on Wilbur’s lips before moving to his neck and sucking. Wilbur moaned as he felt a hand go down his side, to right on his stomach, just above where his own cock was laying. It felt like teasing, with Phil’s hand so close to his dick, but he was making no moves to give what Wilbur wanted.

“Phil, touch me, touch me please, I need it, please-”

Phil only chuckled, continuing to leave hickeys on Wilbur’s neck. Wilbur whined, shifting his hips in hopes to get some sort of friction against Phil’s body, only for hands to grab them and pin them to the mattress.

“Hold still. I plan on taking my time. Been imagining this since you’ve walked into my class,” Phil whispered in his ear. “You’ll be a good boy, won’t you?”

Wilbur frantically nodded. “Yes sir, I’ll be good, please, just continue, I’ll be your good boy, sir, please.”

Phil continued kissing and sucking Wilbur’s neck, slowly moving down to his chest. His mouth latched onto one of Wilbur’s nipples, lightly sucking. He felt the brunette's hips twitch under his hands, but they made no other moves as Wilbur moaned loudly. He lifted one of his hands to pinch Wilbur’s other nipple, causing the brunette’s back to arch up as he let out another loud moan.

“Oh my god, please Phil, please touch me, I can’t take it anymore, please sir!”

Phil let his mouth come off of Wilbur’s nipple. “Only because you beg so nicely.”

Phil wrapped a hand around Wilbur’s cock, slowly stroking it, using the precum that had gathered as makeshift lube. The other let out a sob, the tears he was holding back earlier finally coming down his face. Phil would’ve stopped at that if it weren’t for Wilbur’s hips still twitching under his other hand and the moans falling from the brunette’s mouth.

The pace Phil had on Wilbur’s cock was torturous after a minute. Wilbur needed Phil inside him. He was willing for Phil to go in dry if it meant that he could feel full. He whined, trying to communicate what he wants.

Phil seemed to get the memo, as he leaned over to the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube from the drawer. He poured some out onto three fingers, rubbing the substance to warm it up. Phil deemed it good enough, and slowly pushed a finger into Wilbur’s hole.

Wilbur whimpered, the slight pain from the stretch reminded him that it had been a while since his last time. Phil kissed him on the cheek, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he pumped the finger in and out of him.

The pain morphed into pleasure, and soon Phil added another finger, scissoring him. Wilbur gripped on the bedsheets, moaning as he rocked down onto Phil’s fingers. He already felt so full, only two of Phil’s thick fingers inside of him.

“You look so pretty like this, Wilbur. Maybe I should make you cum from just my fingers.”

Arousal shot down Wilbur’s spine as Phil added a third finger.

“Oh my god, yes, I want that, please sir, I want that so bad, make me cum again and again-” Wilbur’s words were caught off with a very loud moan, when Phil hit his prostate. His back arched again. “Right there! Keep going!”

Phil adjusted his fingers to where he was hitting Wilbur’s prostate over and over, the brunette’s moans increasingly getting louder before white ribbons of cum shoot out of his dick and all over his stomach. As Wilbur caught his breath, Phil pulled his fingers out, and poured some more lube on his hand to coat his dick. Once he deemed it enough, he lined up at Wilbur’s entrance.

“You ready, Wilbur?”

He was out of his post orgasmic haze now, so he nodded. He could feel himself get hard again when Phil started to push in, reminding him that they haven’t gotten to the best part yet.

The stretch burned, making Wilbur tear up again, but he didn’t mind since he liked the pain. Tears fell down his cheeks once Phil was completely inside him, who stayed still as to let Wilbur adjust. Phil gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, rubbing his hands up and down Wilbur’s sides.

Phil knew he was able to move once Wilbur started rocking down on his dick. He started with a slow pace, to let Wilbur adjust a bit more before he went any faster. Wilbur’s arms wrapped around his neck, his hands resting on Phil’s shoulder blades.

Phil moved faster until he was set in a steady rhythm, his skin slapping against Wilbur’s. He lifted one of Wilbur’s legs and hooked it over his shoulder, effectively changing the angle to where his cock was hitting Wilbur right in his sweet spot. Wilbur moaned loudly, babbling out incoherent nonsense as more tears fell out of his eyes.

“Phil, I’m so close, please let me cum, sir. I’ve been good, I’ve been a good boy!”

Phil wrapped a hand around Wilbur’s cock, matching the pace with his thrusts as he whispered in the bottom’s ear.

“Such a pretty boy, all for me. You’re doing so good, baby. C’mon, cum for me.”

With Phil’s permission, Wilbur was tipped over the edge, coming for the second time that night. Phil fucked him through his orgasm, the pleasure starting to mix with pain as the overstimulation kicked in. Wilbur sobbed, his blunt nails digging into Phil’s shoulders as Phil continued with the same pace as before. He was so sensitive, his third orgasm already creeping up on him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can do it one more time, I’m close too.”

Wilbur whined as he hit his third orgasm, only a little bit of cum coming from his dick. His tears were all down his cheeks and into his hairline. He felt Phil speed up before stilling, and a warmth flooded his insides. Phil pulled out, and some of his cum leaked out of Wilbur’s hole.

Wilbur looked like a mess, with tear streaks down his face, eyes red and puffy from crying, and his swollen lips parted as drool came from the side of his mouth. Phil got up from the bed and went to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and grabbing some lotion. He cleaned Wilbur up, then himself. He grabbed the lotion and poured some on his hand, before taking one of Wilbur’s legs and softly massaging the lotion into his thighs.

Phil noticed the bruises when Wilbur stripped, seeing them primarily on his waist and thighs. He made sure to be gentle as to not hurt Wilbur as he massaged lotion into Wilbur’s other thigh. Once he finished, he tossed the washcloth towards his dirty clothes hamper and left the lotion on the nightstand. He grabbed Wilbur’s sweater from the floor as well as Wilbur’s boxers, putting it on the brunette before pulling on some boxers of his own.

He pulled Wilbur close to him as he pulled the covers over them, tucking his head under his chin. Wilbur seemed to enjoy the position, snuggling his face into Phil’s chest and wrapping his arms around his torso.

“What happens now? What does this make us?” Wilbur mumbled into Phil’s chest. Phil started tracing symbols on Wilbur’s back.

“It can be whatever you want it to be. I’m happy as long as you’re happy,” Phil kissed Wilbur’s hair, making the brunette smile.

“I think I want us to be boyfriends.”

“Mm... I like that.”

Wilbur yawned, his eyes fluttering. He eventually closed them, feeling comfortable and safe in Phil’s embrace.

“Sleep well, love.”

~~~

BONUS:

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you slept with your history professor,” Techno laughed as he turned the key in the lock, successfully opening their new dorm room door.

Wilbur’s face turned red in embarrassment as he shoved Techno’s shoulder. “Shut up! You knew it was only a matter of time!”

“Oh, I know, I just like bullying you for it,” Techno responded, and went to one of the bedrooms to set his duffel bag down.

Wilbur shook his head, and went to the other bedroom and putting down his duffel bag of his remaining belongings from the old dorm. He walked back into the living room, his eyes catching an object on the couch.

It was a guitar, and with it was a note.

It didn’t look anything expensive, but Wilbur could tell that it was worth a good amount of money. He picked up the note, tears threatening to fall.

_I found out that your parents broke your guitar and weren’t willing to pay for it. So I went and got you another one._

_Hope to hear your beautiful voice soon._

_-Phil xx_

“Yo, is that a new guitar?” Techno questioned. Wilbur nodded, tears now falling down his face as he smiled happily.

“Yeah, Phil bought it.”

“It’s only been a week and you already have a sugar daddy.”

“Techno, I will put a waste basket over your head.”

\--

_**To: Phil <3** _

_**From: Wilbur** _

_Thank you <3 _

**Author's Note:**

> professor phil, anyone?  
> maybe ill make another fic thats in the same universe as this one uwu
> 
> ALSO WHEN THIS WAS BEING MADE PHIL SAID THAT IF HE WAS A TEACHER HE WOULD BE AN ENGLISH OR ART TEACHER AND THAT GOT ME SO MAD BC I WAS HALFWAY THROUGH AND I ALREADY HAD HIM AS A HISTORY TEACHER-


End file.
